December 24, 2022

This Christmas season has been one of the busiest in a long time for me. I had intended to get a letter out early in the month, yet here we are, Christmas Eve, and I’m only now getting my thoughts down. The thing is, if I had written at the beginning of the month, this post would be very different. While I was busily working on getting my house ready for our annual Christmas party for my husband’s staff, I heard a new-to-me Christmas song from Andrew Peterson’s album, Behold the Lamb. The song is titled “Labor of Love,” and one line really hit me in the feels.

“And little Mary full of grace

with tears upon her face

had no mother’s hand to hold.”

I’ve known all my life that Mary gave birth to Jesus in a stable, and that it’s likely Joseph performed the part of a midwife. But I guess my mama’s heart wrenched at that final part of this verse that says she had no mother’s hand to hold. Today most women have their babies surrounded by strangers, but those strangers are doctors and nurses who are trained to bring babies into the world. Back in Mary’s day, it was common for mamas to be there along with grandmas and aunts and cousins and sisters. Mary was neither the first nor the last woman to go through childbirth without her mother by her side, but that detail in the song put me in Mary’s shoes in a whole new way. I don’t know how much Joseph knew about bringing a child into the world. I’m going to guess not much. He was a carpenter, after all, not a farmer or shepherd who was at least familiar with animal births. He must have had an assurance that the Baby would be fine since He was the Son of God. But Joseph couldn’t know the mother, his betrothed, the woman he’d chosen to be his wife, would make it. What a responsibility thrust into his work-worn hands. Maybe both Mary and Joseph were calm and unafraid because of their faith. I like to think so.

The Baby boy we celebrate on Christmas made the ultimate sacrifice, and it was His that made the real difference. If not for His death and resurrection 33 years later, we wouldn’t know Mary and Joseph’s names or the account of the birth in a stable. But this song made me contemplate on how many sacrifices were made so I could gain salvation. It’s rather humbling. 

May the Light of that first Christmas bless you and yours this Christmas and guide you throughout the new year.

Merry Christmas!